


Dreaming of a Rusty Christmas

by churchenbells



Category: Project Nemesis Series - Brendan Reichs
Genre: Christmas Fluff, F/M, Skippy is... kind of their child, Tack's middle name is Rudolph just because
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:08:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28325835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/churchenbells/pseuds/churchenbells
Summary: Tack and Sarah celebrate Christmas post-Chrysalis.
Relationships: Sarah Harden/Thomas "Tack" Russo
Comments: 6
Kudos: 2





	Dreaming of a Rusty Christmas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bluecanary101](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluecanary101/gifts).



> Merry Christmas >:3c

The funniest thing was that they really had no idea whether it was actually Christmas. Or even close to Christmastime. Date-keeping had been such a low priority at first, and the lack of seasons on Mars meant they couldn't even see snow outside and figure it was close enough. Then again, Tack remembered, neither could Californians. It had been a good while since the last harvest, so Tack decided that it was officially winter and that it was about time someone brought Christmas back around here.

He hung up the last string of dried berries and evaluated the room. The small cabin was festive enough, with garlands of berries and various components of metal hung around the room. And the regeneration pod made an alright Christmas tree, really. It was never going to be a Hallmark Christmas, but it was colorful and shiny enough. Certainly a far cry from a manger.

There were three quick knocks on the door. Sarah was never late.

Quick outfit check: yes, he was wearing a red sweater. It was the most festive thing he had. "Hold on just a minute!" Tack opened the door and tried his hardest to block any view of the cabin. Sarah had braided her hair and had apparently gotten bangs that Tack would have to comment on later. She'd probably gone to Rose; the girl had proven herself surprisingly good with a pair of scissors. "You have to close your eyes," he told her.

She rolled her eyes a little but indulged him. Tack stood on his toes to cover the taller girl's eyes and lead her to the middle of the room. For maximum aesthetic effect.

"Seriously Tack, what's going on here?" Tack couldn't see Sarah's face, but he could feel her face warm up under his fingers. After a silent count to three, he released her eyes and gestured to the room.

"Merry Christmas!" He almost jumped with excitement. Okay, maybe he did. Just a little. Sarah's eyes were wide as she evaluated the room.

"Christmas," she repeated.

"Christmas!"

There was a brief period of time during which Sarah either enjoyed the display or struggled for words. Tack couldn't tell. "It's been ages since I even thought about Christmas."

"Yeah, well," Tack explained, "I figured little Chris should get to know some Earth traditions."

Sarah reanimated at the mention of Rachel's son. "Oh my god." She clasped her hands together in joy. "It's going to be Skippy's first Christmas."

The AI had been the thing to bring the unlikely couple together. Soon after Noah Livingston rejoined the Livingston Colony, he let slip that Tack had brought him back with Skippy's help. Cue Sarah barging into Tack's cabin demanding visitation rights with the AI she thought of as her own. Long nights with Skippy became long nights together and, well, everyone figured was about time Tack got over a schoolboy crush.

Made the fact that he'd built his cabin next to Min a little awkward when Sarah and Noah crossed paths.

Skippy picked up humanlike speech pretty fast, which Tack guessed was fair. It was, after all, programmed by the same people that had managed to transfer human beings into programs and back. Techno-necromancy aside, Skippy was genuinely fun to talk to. The Luddites that made up the rest of the colony wouldn't give him the time of day, but Skippy didn't mind. It was too busy decrypting old files from Chrysalis, anyway.

Despite his growing affection for the little bot, Tack hadn't even considered Skippy would want to celebrate. "Oh man, I should wake Skippy up."

"Yes, _Rudolph_ ," Sarah huffed. Tack bristled at the—sadly very appropriate—use of his hated middle name. "You _should_ wake Skippy up. I can't believe you forgot about it in the first place." She sat at the table and blew up her bangs. "I wish you hadn't made this a surprise, I didn't get you guys anything!" 

Tack input the command to boot Skippy up. "Aw Sarah, _you're_ my present." The look on her fact confirmed that that line was just as lame as it was in the movies. "I like your hair, by the way." That put a smile on her face.

"That's a relief, I hadn't cut it since I was reconstructed and I figured, you know, the rest of my life is starting..." She played with her bangs, suddenly contemplative. "Really weird to think dying is permanent now."

"I could probably keep bringing you back, actually."

"Don't you dare. It's better that we live this way. Anyways, you should let Rose cut your hair some time. You look positively shaggy."

Tack's black hair just about reached his shoulders now, and his old purple streak had long faded away under the harsh Mars sun. It always seemed like too much of a hassle to cut it, though. Tack hauled Skippy's terminal over to the table, as always. He'd figured about a month in that he could just leave it on the table all the time, but it was good exercise. "Come on, it's fake Mars Christmas. No death tonight."

> SKIPPY'S UP! :D

The text on the terminal was as enthusiastic as ever. Skippy kind of reminded Tack of a puppy, except an extremely intelligent, robotic puppy that kept trying to teach Tack the basics of data science. Sarah reached over to type out "Hello Skippy *smile* Merry Christmas!". Skippy's reply took a little longer than usual.

> Christ·mas (ˈkris-məs) : a Christian feast on December 25 or among some Eastern Orthodox Christians on January 7 that commemorates the birth of Christ and is usually observed as a legal holiday
> 
> ...
> 
> READ BIBLE. EPUB. VERY NICE STORY :) HAPPY BIRTHDAY, JESUS CHRIST!

They'd been looking into getting voice recognition capabilities for Skippy, but nobody had managed to salvage microphones from Chrysalis. Naturally, this meant Tack didn't have to worry about accidentally offending the poor AI, if it could be offended. "I'm not sure it _gets_ Christmas," said Tack.

Sarah shushed him. "It's doing the best it can!"

She typed "Technically true, but we're just celebrating having food and presents and friends, Skippy. It's just a winter holiday."

Tack laughed. "We're turning a Christian AI into an atheist!"

> I HAVE VARIOUS FILES CONTAINING TRADITIONAL CHRISTMAS MUSIC. PLAY? Y/N

Tack and Sarah shared a bemused look. Who knew Skippy could play music? Tack hit Y only to be answered by a version of "The Little Drummer Boy" played with various error message tones.

> HOLIDAY TIME >:D

"Huh," said Tack, "The bot's an artist."

"That's actually very impressive, you know," replied Sarah. She grinned. "'The Little Drummer Boy' was always my favorite." Tack would have kissed her then, if not for the fact that Skippy was right there. It couldn't see them, but Tack felt a little strange about it.

He got up from the table. "That reminds me, your gift is probably getting antsy!" The simple box was hidden under his bed, and Tack wasn't sure how much longer the gift would be content to stay there, even with the airholes he had poked. He retrieved it, relieved to find that the creature hadn't chewed its way out of the box or anything.

"Tack!" called Sarah from the table. "Did you say _antsy?_ Please tell me that's a metaphor!" She was holding a small burlap bag when Tack returned. "It's popcorn," she said as sheepishly as Sarah possibly could, which really wasn't very much, "I thought this was just a regular date."

"Popcorn's great! We can make popcorn strings like in _Home Alone_!" Tack offered up the warm box to Sarah. She visibly paled as she felt the warmth coming from the box for herself.

"I don't remember them making pop—" She was interrupted by the box. The small squeak brought color back into her cheeks, and she threw an accusatory look at Tack. "This is _alive_."

Tack bit his lip, positively giddy. " _Yes_!"

Sarah finally opened the box to reveal a small tabby cat. It was officially the first animal on Mars. The cat, finally free of its previous short confinement in the box, immediately nuzzled into Sarah, purring.

" _Skippy has data for animals?"_ Sarah exclaimed.

The animal-cloner in question was currently wildly displaying smile emoticons after Tack had informed it that, yes, Sarah had liked the cat. "It's been in there the whole time, can you believe it? All of the data for wild animals you found in the silo, those were real animals! They had entire databases of animals ready for reconstruction on the Chrysalis!" There were even programs for domesticated animals like dogs and cats, which was surprising. While Tack agreed that having dogs go extinct would be a tragedy, it was quite unexpected of the same team that basically sent teenagers into a computer program and let them figure out murder for themselves. Everyone was still trying to untangle the convoluted logic behind the hell they'd died through.

"I was going to make a turkey for dinner," he continued, "but it felt really weird to make the first animal on Mars and kill it right then."

"This would be a lifesaver if only the regeneration pod was big enough for us to have cows. Maybe there was a larger cloning center on the ship," Sarah mused, scratching behind the cat's ears. The tabby, to its credit as a Christmas present, was doing an amazing job at being lovable and soft.

Tack took the popcorn and dumped it into a pot, too excited to even speak. Mars had been _miserable_ without animals. The dog-centered books only poured salt in the wound. 

"And we need some of Earth's bacteria, though we must have that if plants are decaying, which they are, and we want fungus, and we want insects, though maybe not locusts or anything..." Sarah's mouth was going a mile a minute, her mind already calculating how to get Mars as Earth-like as possible, until she trailed off. She walked over to where Tack was building a small fire for the popcorn, and pinched him. "And the very first thing you do is _make a cat for me?_ " Then she kissed him. "You made a cat for me!"

"Well, I made a Noah for Min, so..."

"Don't make me take the kiss back, Tack."

They snuggled in front of the fire while the popping corn drowned out the sweet-but-grating medley of error messages that now sounded something like "Jingle Bell Rock". 

**Author's Note:**

> AU where instead of bringing Noah back Tack brings Skippy to life in Noah's body. Just because.


End file.
